


Chocolates and other gifts

by Herk



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Complete, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-08
Updated: 2019-06-08
Packaged: 2020-04-23 02:07:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,126
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19141423
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Herk/pseuds/Herk
Summary: Just before the bookshop opens Aziraphale gets a visit by Crowley.Based onthis missing scene





	Chocolates and other gifts

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, I ship them. The Almighty ships them if you ask me. This is about as ship-y as the show, so pretty ship-y although nothing happens.

“Crowley, what a pleasant surprise.”

 

Gabriel and Sandolphon had left a couple of hours ago and Aziraphale had calmed down considerably from what had been quite a fright. His bookshop would be opening on time and no heavenly interference would stop it. The place was closed but in a very profound way, amidst all the chaos, it already felt like home. The closed door didn’t stop Crowley of course. It wasn’t really meant to.

 

“Hello, angel.”

 

Like always the demon was dressed on the height of fashion, a wealthy gentleman, wise in the ways of the world. He took an appreciating look around the shop.

 

“Do you like it?”

 

The demon’s mouth twitched at the corner. “It’s very ‘you’. I would have hated to see some other prick occupy it.”

 

And suddenly Gabriel’s change of heart made sense. The angel wasn’t sure whether he wanted to know the details. Instead he focussed on something else.

 

“What’s that, Crowley?” He gestured vaguely at the small package in the demon’s left.

 

“Oh just a little shop warming gift to celebrate.”

 

“Crowley, you needn’t have…” The angel was quite flustered and felt vaguely guilty without knowing why exactly.

 

“It’s Belgian chocolates, your favourite.” The demon interrupted with a smile.

 

Aziraphale’s mouth snapped shut, cutting off any further protest. A wide smile lit up his face as Crowley held the box out to him. He was a tempter after all - and a very successful one at that.

 

“Why thank you, Crowley.” He couldn’t help but take the gift. “Would you like a cup of tea, dear?”

 

The demon took off his coat and hat and put them on the rack. “Sounds splendid.”

 

While the angel prepared the pot, Crowley took his time to take in the shop. It really was very Aziraphale, the angel’s very personal ‘Heaven on Earth’. And because it was Aziraphale, this particular idea of Heaven was something that actually didn’t make Crowley nauseous. Once they had both settled down in the cozy back of the store with a nice freshly brewed cup in their hands, Aziraphale took the first chocolate and put it into his mouth. He closed his eyes savouring the taste, letting the tiny bit of perfection melt on his tongue. It took quite a while in which Crowley had nothing better to do than watch the angel truly indulge in one of his many-if-tiny vices. The pure bliss showing on Aziraphale’s face would have convinced even the most hardened sceptic that Heaven was real.

 

After finishing the first bit of confectionary the angel opened his eyes and saw the demon smiling at him. Two or three thousand years ago he would have wondered immediately what Crowley was planning, suspecting him of some malice and the chocolates just a tiny part of his evil machinations. Now he smiled at the thought. No there was no malice in that smile, just… well… Crowley.

 

“Do you want one?” He offered.

 

“Nah - those are yours. I brought my own sweets.” What he didn’t say was ‘I enjoy watching your pleasure a lot more than I would appreciate the chocolates.’ He held up a paper bag instead to underline his independence in the confections department.

 

“Is that liquorice?” Aziraphale couldn’t quite keep the distaste out of his voice.

 

Crowley chuckled. “Not the terrible stuff we tried that one time. This one’s is actually good. I might save you one to try later.”

 

“Thanks, dear, but I think I’ll stay with chocolate for now.”

 

Crowley shrugged. “Suit yourself.”

 

“I will.” Aziraphale promised with one of those perfect little smiles of his before putting a second piece into his mouth, savouring it the same way he had done the first.

 

Crowley couldn’t help himself, he lost himself in observation as several dozen emotions crossed over Aziraphale’s angelic features. He nibbled at a piece of liquorice so he wouldn’t blow his cover enjoying the view.

 

“Where did you get these? The little shop on Howard Street?”

 

“Schapenstraat.”

 

“Is that over at the West End?”

 

“It’s in Leuven.”

 

“Oh.”

 

“I did say it was Belgian chocolate.” Crowley could hardly keep the amusement out of his voice.

 

“So you did.” Aziraphale agreed. “I just wasn’t aware that you’ve been out of the country, my dear.”

 

“Just a quick temptation I had to get out of the way for the brass downstairs. You were busy with preparation and I was gone less than a week. I didn’t think it was necessary to distract you. When I spotted the chocolates I thought no harm would be done bringing you some.” This wasn’t strictly a lie. He might have left out minor details such as him dropping a discreet hint that resulted in the order to tempt a priest in Leuven after he had heard about that particular shop from a mortal associate, but the end result was about the same. And you couldn’t really expect a demon to tell the whole the truth all the time.

 

Aziraphale took a sip from his cup. The Assam did blend perfectly with the aftertaste of the chocolate and he was once again reminded why he loved earth more than was strictly appropriate maybe. “Mmmh, I would have missed this.”

 

What Crowley didn’t say is ‘as would have I’. What he uttered instead was a teasing question. “The chocolate, the tea, or the shop?”

 

Aziraphale chuckled. “Yes.” His eyes lingered on Crowley for a moment but he didn’t elaborate that he meant all of it, earth, humans, worldly pleasures, and of course the company.

 

The demon answered the chuckle with a grin and drank from his own cup. The Assam was pretty good. If the Angel knew one thing then how to brew a proper cup of tea.

 

“Now dear, what _did_ you do to make Gabriel change his mind?” The mood was light and Aziraphale couldn’t help but giving into his curiosity. Another character flaw when it came to being a principality but his centuries with humanity - and Crowley - had left their mark.

 

“We-ell” the demon started and Aziraphale sank back into his chair recognising a master storyteller getting into his art. “I was just walking down the street minding my own business, contemplating whether to deliver my little gift today as the chocolates were still fresh or wait until the day of the great opening when my feet unwittingly carried me close to this very location. Imagine my shock when I felt not one, not two, but three angelic presences? What was an evil demon to do but lurk close to spy on Heaven’s latest machinations? Surely the presence of more angels could only mean terrible news for his own humble existence. But what kind of demon would this poor person be if he wasn’t ready to wrestle opportunity from danger, victory from the jaws of defeat? So if I could spy on their ethereal plans I could throw a spanner into their works, thwart Heaven’s will, earning favour with the dark lords of the nine circles.”

 

Despite the fact that Crowley hadn’t said more than ‘I listened in on Gabriel, Sandolphon and you’, Aziraphale was captivated. He sipped his tea and enjoyed Crowley’s larger than life retelling of this afternoon’s events. He’d always enjoyed a tall tale. There was a reason why he had decided on a bookshop of all things. And his demon friend could be a terribly entertaining fellow.

 

“Imagine my shock, hearing of their plans - taking your ethereal presence from this place, sentencing such a talented being to the eternal boredom of Heaven and replacing him with some shmuck?”

 

Aziraphale raised an eyebrow. “Talented?”

 

This question apparently took Crowley by surprise, he lost the easy stride in the flow of his tale, almost stumbled upon his answer. “Well it did take me only a thousand years or so before you succumbed to the pleasures of this world and actually ate something. You my friend have a great talent for earthly pleasures. It would have taken at least twice as long to teach any replacement to enjoy themselves from time to time. Ten times if it was Michael that prick. And I doubt they would ever master the art of making a decent cup of tea.” He raised his cup towards the angel in a quiet salute before taking a sip from it, at once hiding his slight embarrassment as well as keeping his throat from going too dry from talking.

 

“Oh, why thank you, dear.” The angel found himself quite flustered by the offhanded compliment. It’s not something either of them said out loud often - what they actually appreciated about one another.

 

”A-nyway” Crowley started again. “ What was a dastardly clever and handsome demon to do?”

 

Aziraphale couldn’t quite hold the chuckle back. While he would in principle agree with his friend’s self-description, the over the top delivery was quite amusing.

 

“So naturally I turned toward my many, many allies and enlisted the help of some hellish fiends.”

 

“F-fiends?” Now the angel was slightly worried. While Crowley undoubtedly could charm many humans into doing his bidding, so far he had always been under the impression that he kept himself at a mile’s distance to other occupants of hell if he had the choice.

 

Crowley’s grin couldn’t be described other than devilish. “Haven’t I introduced you to Bob yet?” With a gesture a dark hooded figure appeared in the middle of his shop.

 

For a split moment the angel was shocked before a dramatic change in lighting - no doubt owed to Crowley - revealed a clothes dummy as they were displayed in shop windows all over town. His eyebrows raised up almost to his hairline. “Bob?”

 

“A truly demonic name if ever there was one, isn’t it Bob? _Yes, Master Crowley, no one as gruesome as me, sir_.”

 

Aziraphale clapped his hands in delight. “Oh I love when you do the voices.”

 

And that Crowley decided alone was worth all his theatrics, the pure joy in his angel’s face,

 

“What happened next?”

 

The demon laughed, his joy at a captive audience at least as pure as the angel’s own. “Well Bob and me had a little conspicuous get together. _I need to keep the master informed of all the dealings in London_. So my stalwart, fiendish servant told me about all the terrible deeds that had been thwarted, all my wiles for nothing _as the thrice-blessed angel is far too clever for us poor little hellfiends_. But of course there was good news too - or bad depending on your perspective. _Stupid Heaven recalling their best agent, giving us free range to finally do as we please._ For surely no other angel knows my ways well enough to thwart me at every conceivable opportunity. A new agent would be like an apple ripe for the picking unwise to the ways of the world as they had to be. Unfortunately our little conversation was overheard. _Curses - we met behind the tailor’s because we thought it was save._ Curses indeed.”

 

The angel stared at him in awe, unsure what to say.

 

Crowley sprung up from his chair and took a deep dramatic bow. “Thank you, thank you. I will be here the whole century.” The demon dropped himself back onto the chair slouching more than his gentleman appearance would allow for. But it was just the two of them and there was no reason to hide. He’d taken of his glasses and started playing idly with them, his yellow eyes sparkling with mirth. Not exactly a demonic expression but well the reason was outsmarting Heaven’s agents so there was that at least.

 

Aziraphale cleared his throat. “Thank you, Crowley.”

 

The demon waved the earnest, heartfelt thanks away with his left. “‘Twas nothing.”

 

Usually the angel was willing to let his friend have it his way, to downplay any hint of sincere emotion. But today was different. He had been in danger of losing it all. Earth, chocolates, his bookshop - Crowley. “But it was something. You risked a confrontation with Gabriel - an archangel - on my behalf.”

 

“Gabby is too much of a stickler for protocol. He would never attack me without express orders, especially not since I had back up.” He grinned towards ‘Bob’. “Besides Michael is a wanker, so I did it as much for my sake as for yours.”

 

“Nevertheless, Crowley, you took a risk and I profited from it. I owe you.”

 

Those three words held weight coming from an angel. If he ever decided to call in on that, he could get Aziraphale to do about anything. He swore then and there to himself that he would never do it though. He wouldn’t use this against his angel down the line. Instead he rolled his head back like he's bored.

 

“Ahh - who keeps counting anyway.”

 


End file.
